


My Newsies OCs

by kaywritesfanfic



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Gen, I love them all, I posted them on Tumblr first, More will come in the future, Newsies - Freeform, my original characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 09:30:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16115630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaywritesfanfic/pseuds/kaywritesfanfic
Summary: Descriptions and stories of my Newsies OCs.Dragon FlyLibertyRiverAugustMaxRichDamien





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of short stories and things for my Newsies OCs.
> 
> ~Dragon Fly: (based on me); female; 18; ace; redhead; Irish-American; second in command of Queens; awkward; mom figure for younger newsies; best friends with Max; friends with the other Manhattan newsies and Katherine  
> ~Liberty: female; 15; bisexual; black hair; African American/Mixed; newest (and toughest) Bronx newsie; "fight or die fighting"; a bit rebellious but respects her leader; punched a guy that was trying to attack her; accidentally broke Spot's nose  
> ~River: male; 17; gay; blond hair; American/White; Brooklyn; dare-devil; he and Race are Disaster Bois; good terms with Spot; muscular  
> ~August: nonbinary; 16; pansexual; brown hair; Italian-American (mother is dark hair/eye/skin Italian and father is blond/blue-eyed/fair skinned Italian); Manhattan newsie; loyal; doesn't fight unless it's necessary; good friends with Liberty  
> ~Max: (based on @maxisprettygay) female; 15; bisexual; brown hair; Mexican-American; Manhattan newsie; a massive crush on Spot; jokes a lot; best friends with August; says she'll fight you but she won't  
> ~Rich: male; 17; biromantic demisexual; auburn hair; American/White; leader of the Bronx; tan and muscular  
> ~Damien: male; 15; gay; brown hair; African American/Mixed; Bronx newsie; likes to make jokes
> 
> ~~~
> 
> Ongoing series
> 
> Chapter 1: River and Race being Disaster Bois  
> Chapter 2: Liberty accidentally breaks Spot's nose  
> Chapter 3: Liberty's backstory and aftermath of breaking Spot's nose

River hated the walk to Manhattan. Not only was it hard on his leg, but the walk itself was exhausting. If he wasn’t planning this prank for a week, he wouldn’t bother making the trek, but there was one person that he needed to go through with it. He approached the entrance to the Manhattan lodging house and walked inside. He saw Mr. Kloppman at his desk. “Excuse me, Mr. Kloppman?”

Mr. Kloppman looked up and smiled. “Good evening, River,” he said. With River coming in fairly often, he made the attempt to learn his name. “What brings you here?” 

“I need to see Race. Is he back yet?” River was waiting for the answer and turned when he heard the door open. 

In came Race, a proud grin on his face. “Hey, River!” He ran and tackled his best friend. “What brings you to Manhattan?”

“I had a plan and I needed your help with it.”

Race’s proud grin turned to a mischievous one. “Ooh, who are we pranking this time?” He rubbed his hands together with excitement.

River bit his lip. “Your boyfriend.”

Race’s eyes grew wide. “You’re gonna prank  _Spot_?” He scrunched his face with confusion. “Do you have a death wish?”

“It’s not lethal,” he replied. “It’s a classic prank. He won’t even know it’s us.”

Race laughed and rolled his eyes, resting his arm on River’s shoulder. “Dude, do you realize you are the  _only_  one that’s brave enough to even look at him funny? You’re gonna be the first suspect. And it’s going to be obvious that I helped.”

“So are you in?”

Race pushed off of River and smiled again. “Duh.”

–

Race finished wrapping the twine and joined River in the back of the room. “You really think this is a smart idea?”

“Nope.”

“Good. I’d be concerned if you did.”

“Scream together?” River suggested. He smiled when Race nodded and they both cupped their mouths.

“Hey, Spot!” As soon as the words left their mouths they rushed from the room.

Spot shot out of bed, but he was met with a prison of twine holding him to the frame. “What the–?” The realization hit him. “River, I swear to God if Race helped you with this, you’re both dead!”

“I told you,” Race said. 

“What’s the fun in not trying?” River asked.

“That, my friend, is my life motto.”


	2. Chapter 2

Liberty knew it wasn’t a good idea to be out so late, but the leader of the Bronx needed to get an important message to Brooklyn. He knew she was fast, and that she could hold her own, so let her take the message. She was glad to get the chance to prove herself to the others. She knew that she would have to stay the night in Brooklyn. It had taken her almost 5 hours to get here. She couldn’t make another 5 back.

She had the Brooklyn lodging house in her sight when she slammed into someone. A hand grabbed her shirt and shoved her into the nearest object. Her instincts took over and she swung her fist at the assailant’s nose. She didn’t realize who it was until she heard a long stream of swears. “Spot?”

Spot Conlon looked at Liberty in confusion. He was holding his nose. “Yeah. Do I know you?”

Liberty was still in shock that she actually punched Spot Conlon. “I-I’m from the Bronx. I have a message.”

“The Bronx?” He chuckled. “You must be Liberty. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He groaned. “Nice cross. I think my nose is broken.”

“I’m so sorry!” Liberty said. “I thought you were attacking me, and–.”

Spot held his hand up. “No need to apologize. I just need to fix my nose.” He rubbed his fingers together. “Blood. It’s definitely broken.” He started laughing. “You punch stronger than half of my newsies.”

Liberty let out a nervous chuckle. “I can help fix your nose. I hope you don’t mind if I stay the night, too. It’s too late to make the treck back tonight.”

“There’s an extra bed in the lodging house. You can sleep there.” He led her in, keeping his nose covered. As soon as he walked in, the newsies were wide-eyed.

“Jesus, Spot!” River exclaimed, running over to him. “What happened?”

“I’m fine, River. Liberty, here, punched me by mistake and broke my nose. It’s not serious. She’s staying the night to fix it.”

One of the bigger newsies in the back laughed and smirked. “ _She_  broke your nose? Not a chance.” 

Liberty interrupted what Spot was about to say and faced the guy. “I can break yours too if you want.” She could hear Spot stifle a laugh.

“Let’s get my nose fixed before it heals this way.” Spot showed her to a table in the corner. “How bad is it?” He held his hand away from his nose.

Liberty wiped some blood away with a rag. “It isn’t bad. No noticeable dislocation. It’s most likely just a fracture.” She saw his face wince when she wiped more blood away. “I really am sorry for breaking your nose. That’s a lousy way to meet, huh?”

Spot smiled. “That was the best way to meet. I’ve never been greeted with a broken nose before.” He saw her face grow more uncomfortable. “Hey, no hard feelings.”

Liberty nodded. “I need to reposition your nose. Do you have any kind of anesthesia?”

Spot shook his head. “Will it hurt that much?”

“Depends on your pain tolerance.”

He straightened his back. “Just do it.”

Liberty scrunched her eyebrows. “Are you sure, Spot? It’s going to hurt. A lot.”

“The quicker I get it over with, the quicker I can get the pain over with.”

“It’s going to hurt.” She put her fingers on Spot’s nose and jerked it back into place. She winced as he screamed and cursed again. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Spot grabbed the rag that Liberty had and held it under his nose. “Teaches me to watch where I’m going.” He pointed to a bed by the wall. “That bed is unoccupied. You can sleep there.” He groaned. “What was that message you needed to give me?”

“Oh, shoot, I almost forgot.” Liberty reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here.”

Spot grabbed the note and read it over. He was slowly nodding to himself. He turned back to Liberty. “Get some rest. I can get you something to eat in the morning and send you on your way.”

“Thanks, Spot.”

“Not a problem.”


	3. Chapter 3

It started with her parents. They never let her have a say in her life. She was 15. She was old enough to make some of her own choices. Her parents, however, did not let her. She was a lady, and she needed to act like it. She needed to stop playing with the boys at school. She was growing up, and she should stop acting like a child. It was “already hard having dark skin in the United States”, and she “needed to look classier” so people would take her more seriously. She needed to wear dresses. She needed to do her hair. Anytime she defended herself, her parents would punish her. It finally hit her. The only way for her to really be who she wanted to be was to leave.

She had to run away.

She grabbed a small back and filled it with everything she deemed necessary. She didn’t want to take anything that would remind her of her old life. She left her dresses and her accessories. She left the small trinkets that would make her think of this home. When she knew she had what she needed, she left. She neglected to leave a note. She didn’t want her parents to have an idea of where she was going. She wanted to be free.

She asked around and walked in the direction of a new city. She wanted to leave Harlem. She wanted to leave and never look back. She wasn’t used to walking so far, and she had to stop every chance she got. She made it to the city limit of the Bronx before collapsing on a bench. She looked around and sighed. She was finally free.

“Hey!” A voice called from behind her. A boy, about five years her senior, with pasty skin and dark hair, approached her. He was walking very quickly and he looked angry. “What brings you here, huh?”

She hopped off of the seat and backed away. “I don’t want trouble here, man. I’m just lookin’ for a place to stay.”

“‘Place to stay’?” He scoffed as he got closer. “Just go back to whatever farm you came from and get outta here.”

The words hit her like a ton of bricks. She stopped backing up and stood her ground. “I’m not from a farm,” she shot back.

The boy rolled his eyes and advanced toward her. “Well, you’re from somewhere.” He was gaining ground quickly.

She realized he was in arms distance and she felt his hand clamp around her left arm. She pulled her arm, but his grip was firm. “Let me go.”

“What if I won’t?” He asked with a sneer.

She felt the urge to wipe the smug look from his face, and with her newfound courage, she did. She reared her right arm back and smashed her fist into his eye. It hurt like hell, and she was sure she broke her hand, but she smiled in satisfaction as he fell back. “Don’t touch me again.” She looked to her right and saw a lady calling her over. She was thinking the lady was going to make sure she was okay, but she thought wrong.

“That was not very ladylike, miss. Where are your parents?”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t do ‘ladylike’, ma’am.” She internally smiled at the lady’s look of horror. “And I don’t have parents.” She turned to leave and ran full force into someone else. She hit the ground hard, and she began to pray that it wasn’t the guy from before.

“Need a hand?” This person was different. His voice was softer, and it was warmer than the other boy. The accent was thicker than what she’d heard before, too. He was muscular, tan, and had freckles on the bridge of his nose. Even though he looked close to the same age, he was a complete contrast to the boy that was harassing her. He held his hand out and helped her up with her left hand. “I saw you punch that guy. What was that about?”

She shrugged. Her hand throbbed at the mention of it, but she didn’t let it show. “He demanded to know why I was here, and then he told me to…go back to the farm.”

The boy nodded. “A well-deserved punch, I’ll tell you that. You even gave him a nice shiner.” He chuckled. “That was a good punch, too, but you had a bad angle when you punched him–which totally wasn’t your fault, considering there wasn’t much room for you to move. There’s no way you didn’t hurt your hand.” He held his hand out, making it known he wanted to examine hers. When she rested her hand in his, he looked at it and felt it. He noticed her wincing every few seconds. “It’s not broken. It’s probably sprained. I can take you back to where I live and we can get it fixed up. How’s that sound?”

She took a small, almost unnoticed step backward.

“Oh,” the boy said, letting go of her hand. “I’m sorry. I should’ve introduced myself first. My friends call me Rich, which is ironic if you knew my job. What’s yours?”

She was about to introduce herself by name, but she paused. To really leave her old life behind, she had to start fresh. She thought of something that she could live with. “Liberty.” Short and sweet.

Rich smiled. “Nice to meet you, Liberty. Let’s go get that hand of yours fixed up. We got medical supplies at the lodging house. That’s where I live.” He led her off and went on about his job. “Out here, a lot of kids make a living by selling newspapers. We call ourselves the ‘newsies’. We buy the papes from the publishers and sell them throughout the city. We don’t bother the other boroughs like Brooklyn and them. We send messages occasionally, but we don’t sell there. A turf is a turf. Plus, the Brooklyn leader, Spot Conlon, is the toughest newsie in New York. No one wants to mess with him.”

Liberty scoffed. “Really? How come?”

He seemed to be confused at how calm she was. “He could beat you to a pulp if he wanted.”

“I bet I could take him.”

Rich seems mortified that she even uttered the words. “Those are fighting words. You don’t want to mess with him. Trust me.”

“Whatever you say.” Liberty sighed.

Rich was still concerned at how unphased she was, but he found it amusing. “How would you like a job?”

##  **_~flash forward to after the whole run-in with Spot (once she got back)~_ **

“I’m back, guys,” Liberty said, walking into the lodging house the next morning. “The message was delivered successfully.

“How’d it go?” Rich asked. “Did you have to break any noses on the way?” He said it jokingly because she had a habit of breaking people’s noses, but only if they instigated it.

Liberty scrunched her face at his question. “About that….”

One of the boys in the back grunted as he drank water from his glass. “Liberty, can you not go a  _day_ without breaking a nose? This is the fifth one this week!” He was exaggerating, but it wasn’t that inaccurate.

“The other four deserved it, Damien,” Liberty joked back.

“Are you saying that you broke someone’s nose without a reason?”

“No, it was an accident.”

Rich started laughing. “How do you  _accidentally_  break someone’s nose, Liberty?”

Liberty rolled her eyes. “It was dark, we ran into each other, he grabbed my shirt, and my instincts kicked in.”

“You’ve got to get better instincts.”

“Well tell Spot that he needs to get better reflexes.”

Damien spat his water out. “ _Spot_? As in  _Spot Conlon_?”

Rich’s eyes grew wide. “Liberty,  _please_  tell me you didn’t break Spot Conlon’s nose.  _Please_  tell me you didn’t.”

Liberty grimaced. “Only a little.”

Damien started howling with laughter. “How do you break someone’s nose  _a little_?”

“It was an  _accident_!”

“Okay.” He sat up and faced Liberty. “How do you  _accidentally_  break someone’s nose  _a little_?”

Liberty held up her middle finger. “Bite me.”

Damien playfully sneered. “That’s not very ladylike.” He knew that it would irk her.

She held up her other finger. “How’s this for ladylike?”

Rich laughed and scoffed. “When you said you could take on Spot, I didn’t think you would take it seriously.”

“It was an  _accident_!”

“That story will make it to every borough in New York by the end of the week. Spot Conlon won’t be the most feared newsie anymore. You’ll be.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Well, ‘sorry’ doesn’t unbreak the King of Brooklyn’s nose, Liberty.”


End file.
